Listen
by practically geriatric
Summary: "Daniel, my name is Lucy Carlyle. I promise I won't hurt you. I need your help, actually. I need you to find my Source. It's at 35 Portland Row, only one street over. Can you do that for me please?"
1. Chapter 1: The Source

Lockwood and Co is the property of Johnathan Stroud.

 **Chapter 1: The Source**

Daniel's first mistake was being out after dark. Over the last 60 years or so, the Problem had faded substantially, but the lack of sunlight continued to hold hidden dangers. Type twos may be rare, almost nonexistent, but his mother kept reminding him that one could die just as easily from a Tom O'Shadows if you didn't know it was there.

His second mistake was being out after dark alone. Florence, his best friend, lived only a few blocks away. He'd hoped she'd be awake, perhaps reading one of her fantasy novels, but after throwing six stones at her window he'd given up hope and began the journey home. This whole situation could have been avoided if his father had gotten him a pager for Christmas as he'd asked. But no, "pagers are for professionals, like medics and agents" dad said. "Calling your friends on a house phone was good enough for me when I was your age, and it'll be good enough for you." Typical.

He rounded the street corner and could see his home at the other end. He'd have to sneak back in the way he came – by climbing up the willow tree to his window. It had gotten colder since he'd left the house. He was just thinking of stealing down to the kitchen for a nice steaming mug of tea when –

" _Daniel?... Daniel_!"

The voice came out of nowhere. It seemed strangely far away, as if ringing through the ages and not just down the street. And yet the voice seemed to come from inside him, not his ears. He knew it was the voice of a ghost – he'd been hearing their whispers since he was small – but never before had any of them called him by name. Frozen and frightened, he heard his own shaky voice say,

"Who is this? How d'you know my name?"

" _Daniel, my name is Lucy Carlyle. I promise I won't hurt you. I need your help, actually. I need you to find my Source. It's at 35 Portland Row, only one street over. Can you do that for me please_?"

"What? Why me?"

" _Because you're the only one who can Hear me_."

"That's impossible…ghosts don't speak in full sentences." He was saying his thoughts out loud, trying to keep his panic from rising. "And lots of people can Hear them. There are several agencies with Talented kids. Their _job_ is finding sources. Why not ask one of them?"

" _Daniel, I know this seems strange. Believe me, I'm probably the only one that knows how weird this is for you. But you have to trust me. Wait – don't go! Please_!"

Wrenching himself out of the Ghostlock, Daniel had begun to walk quickly towards his house. He knew as soon as he crossed the iron line of his window, the voice would be no more.

" _Lucy Carlyle – 35 Portland Row. Daniel, please…_ "

The voice faded as he reached his yard, but its desperation remained with him. Portland row must've been too far away for the voice to reach his house. He wasn't usually out after dark, which might explain why he'd never heard it before. He didn't know who this Lucy Carlyle was, nor why she – unlike any other ghost he'd Heard throughout his life – could speak intelligently, and he especially didn't like the implications of being the only one who could Hear her. It was all too strange. At the very least, there was no way Danny would risk going to that house at night.

He swung up the familiar branches to his open bedroom window, where he saw Florence sitting on his bed, book in hand, waiting for him.

* * *

 **Lockwood and Co returned from that night's misadventures completely exhausted. They'd spent the past six hours taking down a poltergeist whose malevolence steadily grew as the night wore on. By the time they'd found the source, George had twisted his ankle tripping over a loose chain, Holly had a black eye inflicted by a hurtling snow globe, and Lockwood's sword arm had a slash just above the elbow. Lucy was disheveled, scraped, and bruised all over – but at she could still walk, and see through both eyes, and use a rapier.**

 **She tried really, really hard not to grin every time she saw Holly's marred face.**

 **And then the doorbell rang. Tonight, of all nights, was the night some desperate adult decided to set off the clacking, clanging alarm. Lucy left Holly to fuss over the boys and shuffled to the door.**

" **H-Hullo, Lucy" their neighbor said nervously.**

" **Mr. Porter, I'm really sorry, but we've just got back from a case. Is there any chance this can wait?"**

" **I'm so sorry Lucy, but you remember that lurker you took care of a few months ago? I…I think it's come back. It's wondering throughout the house…My family, they…no one's ghost touched, thankfully, but I left them in an iron circle and crawled out the window to come and get you. Please…"**

 **Lucy sighed. It was unlikely this was the same ghost they'd handled. She wondered if one of the kids snuck in a Source with a Type Two – something like that had happened last week. It was all over the papers.**

" **Let me get my things" she mumbled.**

 **She packed quickly, stuffing her bag with fresh pouches of iron and salt. She considered bringing the Skull, but after her day she just didn't feel like dragging him around. She was fairly certain he'd neglected to help them find the Source of the poltergeist until the last minute, which left her in no mood to deal with him. She doubted he'd be helpful. In retrospect, leaving him behind was her first mistake.**

" **Lockwood, it's Mr. Porter" she hollered into the next room. "Says it's an emergency. I'll be back in a few."**

" **Lucy, you can't possibly consider going by yourself!" Holly replied.**

" **Holly, I've handled plenty of cases on my own before. I'll be fine. The Porters are only two blocks away, you stay here and patch everyone up. I'll want tea when I get back."**

 **She was out the door before anyone else could question her. That was her second mistake.**

" **I really am very grateful for this, Miss Carlyle" Mr Porter said, in flailing attempt to make conversation as they walked to his house.**

" **It's my job." She replied curtly, cutting off further dialogue.**

 **They finished the rest of the journey in silence, Lucy reaching out with her inner Senses in case something turned up. Given how Mr. Porter made it to 35 Portland Row in safety, this was unlikely. But one could never be sure.**

 **Mr. Porter waited on the sidewalk while Lucy clambered through the open window on the first floor. She saw his family huddled in a hastily formed circle of iron chains. At least she wouldn't have to set up. She wanted to get this over with. It was dangerous going in without information, however, so she joined them in their sanctuary in order to question the children. She hadn't noticed how chilly the room was until she'd crossed that border.**

 **Immediately, the youngest started wailing.**

" **It's all my fault!" he whimpered. He was possibly seven, with mousy hair like his father. "The man said it was a toy! He said" the child sniffled "that it would _protect_ me from the lurkers…"**

 **Lucy had no clue how to calm him down, so she simply asked, "where is the toy?"**

" **In…in my room." He hung his head, and his shaking mother clutched him and the other one closer to her.**

" **What does it look like?"**

" **It's a dice, it's white and small and has black dots, like normal, but it's…it feels funny. It's not like the kind in the board games. Those are shiny."**

 **Lucy shivered. Someone had given this boy a Source and for some sick reason told him it was a toy. Her stomach boiled to think of what that dice was made of. Most Sources are … organic. She took a deep breath.**

" **Er, where in your room is it? On a table, or…"**

" **On the floor" he whispered, miserable and guilty. "By the window."**

" **Right. I'll take care of it. You lot should get out of here, though. Mrs. Porter, please help the kids out the window. I'll stand guard." The children were cheered up at the prospect of using the window in this fashion. Lucy, on the other hand, knew it was a good day when you could just walk about the door - she'd had enough experience leaping out of windows to escape danger, thank you very much.**

 **The most difficult aspect of her job was finding the Source. All the research and set up that goes into working a case is for that end. Usually, the haunted object is hidden in floorboards or some such thing. Lucy shivered as she recalled the jar of teeth jammed under the plumbing of a sink. Since that did not seem to be the issue for this case, her greatest difficulty now lie in getting to it and sealing it before acquiring Ghost Touch. Remembering where the boy slept from the last time they were here, she stepped over the protection of the chains and walked quickly up the stairs. She cast out her senses and looked round before taking the last step.**

 **The room she wanted was straight ahead. The Ghost, however, was directly in her path.**

 **She drew her rapier with one hand, and pulled out a silver net with the other. She cursed herself for not at least bringing the Spirit Cape.**

 **The dead man was half rotted. His ghost looked as if it still hung from a noose – head and shoulders slumped, limbs hanging in mid air, sickening bend in the neck. He floated toward her, black holes in his eye sockets leering at her.**

" **I was cheated…" He whispered.**

 **Remembering all her lessons with Lockwood, Lucy slashed her sword in a defensive knot. It may have been a Type Two, but it was not particularly clever. She maneuvered around it, forcing it out of her way. In order to keep her eye on it's feeble advances, she wound up with her back to the boy's door. She opened it with the hand that clutched the silver net. As she backed into the room, the ghost drifted closer to follow.**

 **It dived at her as she tripped over a toy car. She landed on her bum with a crash and a shout, ghost flying over her stunned face. She jumped up and started waving the net at it – a bull fight in reverse. Glancing down, she saw that it stood right over its dice. Now it was time to take the offensive. She drove it back, just a few inches farther with her rapier and dropped the net over the Source.**

 **Another job done. She didn't even burn down the house this time.**

 **She walked down the stairs, net bundled into her backpack, and left the Porters without saying a word. They watched her go, stunned.**

 **Home was only two blocks away. The thought of tea and a warm bed was all it took to keep her motivated. Her eyesight blurred as she trudged back to 35 Portland Row, alone. Her third mistake. There was no one to warn her, no one nearby to fight with her should anything...happen.**

 **Blinking, she thought she saw a figure walking towards her…**

" **Who's there?" She forced out. The street was quiet enough for even her exhausted voice to carry.**

" **Lucy? I thought that was you. It's me – I thought you might want some help."**

 **Lockwood. Of course. Her heart warmed as he came into focus – she couldn't see his face yet, but she could hear the smile in his voice. She relaxed.**

" **I finished. You can just wait there, I'll catch up to you."**

 **And then her world went dark.**

 **A bag had been shoved over her face. Before she could react, before she could even scream, she felt her body be caught up and flung into the air. She landed with a thump on the cold metal surface of a utility van. Pain shot through her shoulder. The wind was knocked out of her. She could hear Lockwood shouting, footsteps running. The car swerved down the street in a screech of tires.**

 **Someone pressed a knee into her back, pinning her to the uneven floor as he tied her wrists. She had collected enough sense to resist them as they bound her feet, but after such a long day it was quite easy for the fully grown men to subdue her.**

" **Hello there, Lucy."**

 **Goosebumps spread down her arms. She knew that voice.**

 **It was Winkman.**

 **Winkman had kidnapped her.**


	2. Chapter 2: Flow

**Chapter 2: Flo**

"So this voice just came out of nowhere?"

"Yes."

"And she wants you to find her source? Why?"

"I don't know, do I? It was creepy. She knew my name, Flo. How did she know my name?"

"I have no idea."

Florence paused, considering. She believed him, as he knew she would. He was grateful for her confidence. His parents, on the other hand, may take some convincing… They had lived through their own ghost stories, which they shared with him growing up. None of the ones he remembered included a spirit that _wanted_ its source found. In fact, much of the horror of his parent's tales had been the fact that they reacted violently to his parent's attempts to destroy said mementoes. His father described them as malicious, cunning in their efforts to thwart the agents. Mom swears that the Specter who'd Touched her was actively trying to kill her. Even now he could hear his mum say, "she wanted me to join her, I'm sure."

Florence broke the comfortable silence by snapping her fingers.

"My grandpa George!" she exclaimed, excitement in her voice. Then, realizing she might wake his family, continued in a whisper: "He spent years researching the Problem. If anyone knows what's going on with that mysterious voice, it'll be him."

"Great. That's fantastic. There's just one problem – your grandfather hates me."

"What? No…that's just his face. He's got a grumpy face, is all. It'll be fine. Tomorrow's Saturday. We'll talk to him in the morning."

"There is no way I'm letting you walk home alone with that voice out there. Why are you here, anyway?"

"Probably for the same reason you were throwing rocks at my window earlier. You're my best friend and I haven't seen you all week" she laughed. His heart did its usual back flip. "Anyway, I'll just take the couch down the hall, like old times. We can tell your parents you were helping me with maths and it took so long we didn't realize it was dark out. If they notice I'd stayed the night, that is. I'll tell mine I left before they got up."

"It'll work for now, I guess." That was a lie. His parents would never buy it, but as long as she didn't go back out there he was willing to go along with it. If that ghost knew his name, there's no telling what else it knew. And if it was so desperate as to be calling out to him in the middle of the night…

"I'll just…go then."

"Yeah. Er…good night then." He was at a loss – should he walk her down the hall? Her creamy dark skin had a peculiar expression on it, as if she was expecting him to say or do something. It's not like she didn't know where she was going. There was lock of curly brown hair falling into her face, and it took all his strength not to reach out and tuck it behind her ear for her. Instead, he pushed back his own mousy brown hair and settled for an awkward smile, trying to mask his discomfort. It probably didn't work.

"Night." She disappeared out his door, allowing herself to be swallowed by the darkness of the hall outside.

 **Lucy did not know where she was. Ever since they'd taken her, they'd kept her weak, beaten, and starving. In short, she was delirious. She vaguely remembered the bag being taken off of her head once they'd reached their destination, but this was only so Winkman could drag her through the place by the hair, showing off his prize. He came by almost every night, just to kick her. She was pretty sure she heard the click of a camera a few of those times, but she couldn't fathom what it would be for. She was barely conscious.**

" **Lucy" someone whispered. "C'mon, ducky, time to get up now. Time to go. Quickly now, that's the ticket."**

 **It was a familiar voice. They were grabbing under her arms, helping her to her feet. She stumbled, and the other girl caught her. She was half carried out of the building and into another car.**

" **Step on it, ya moron" the girl said as Lucy passed out in the back seat.**

 **Lucy blinked awake. She was still weak, but the hunger pain in her stomach woke her.**

" **You awake yet?" the girl said.**

 **She was propped up on a mattress, the smell of oatmeal coming into the room with the familiar girl, mixing with the stink of the Thames.**

 **Lucy recognized the voice. And the smell.**

" **Flo…?"**

" **Glad to see you haven't gone mad then. Eat up, we have to move quickly."**

 **Lucy took the oatmeal with shaky hands, wildly confused. The oatmeal was gone within seconds, but she felt like she might throw it back up. Her body was not used to eating. Yet she was still starving.**

" **Now," Flo said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "We'll have to fake your death or Winkman will think you've escaped to Portland Row. I don't want him getting his hands of George, and I'm sure you feel the same about Lockwood. The sooner you're able to move the better."**

 **Lucy stared at her. The food and sleep helped clear her head, but she was still dazed. And then her brain began to process what Flo was saying: if she didn't convince Winkman she was dead, he'd go after the boys - if he hadn't already. She steeled herself, and asked "What's the plan?"**

 **Flo smiled in a way that made Lucy feel she was lucky to have this girl on her side.**

" **I'm glad you asked."**

 **Lucy meandered around the street, trembling despite herself. It was cold out, and the thought of the next phase of the plan did not warm her. She also felt ridiculously self conscious: she hadn't changed or bathed since being kidnapped, and the layers of filth did not cease to accumulate when Flo pulled her out of that cell. Yet here she was, daylight fading, in plain sight. In Winkman's territory.**

 **Any minute now, she would be spotted.**

 **Any minute now, she would have to run.**

 **All she could hope for was the strength to do what was necessary. Flo's plan was a good one, but incredibly risky. In attempting to fake her death, she may actually die.**

 **Someone had come up behind her. She glanced back just in time to recognize the face as one of Winkman's men before she took off.**

 **Her chest heaved, her legs were already on fire, blood pounded in her ears as each step slapped the ground. She swerved through one side street and another, pretending to panic but knowing her destination. Another pair of boots fell in behind her, and she pushed herself to run faster. The men shouted, and someone up ahead on her right responded, moving in to cut her off.**

 _ **Perfect**_ **. She thought as she dashed down a side street to avoid him, coming at last to the balcony overlooking the river. Turning back at the three men as they slowed to surround her, she feigned a look of desperation.**

 **And then she jumped over the rail and into the river.**

 **It took everything Lucy had not to be overwhelmed by the cold and the current. She took the temporary breathing device Flo had given her out of her pocket. It only had a half hour's worth of air in it, but by the time she got it into her mouth she was already taking huge, desperate breaths. She would be sure not to resurface for as long as possible, especially since she had no clue if they followed her in or were watching the water. She allowed herself to be swept downriver, hoping that Flo would be able to fish her out alive.**

 **She tumbled about in the waves, arms over her head in a weak attempt to shield herself from the other objects (especially rocks). The minutes were agonizingly slow. Finally, she noticed a change in the air pressure coming from the breathing device. It was time to resurface. She pushed her arms out, grasping for something, anything. Her fingers glanced off several mossy rocks until finally she found a tree branch. Fighting for every movement against the sheer force of the water, she pulled herself out of the murk.**

 **She could hear nothing over the roar of the Thames. Shaking the water from her face and turning so her back was to the current, she hesitantly blinked her eyes open. Night had fallen completely. Along the shores she could see wisps of ghostlight blinking in and out of view through the splashes of water. She saw another tree branch further downstream and just off the shoreline. It was a longshot, but she let go of the the one she was holding and swam as best she could towards the shore. The bark of the branch added even more slices to the palms of her hands, but she didn't have time to worry about that. She crawled forward and finally collapsed onto the mud.**

 **As weak as she was, she knew she could not rest for long. She had to find Flo. Lucy got her hands and knees under her, basking in the thought that she was still alive, and pushed herself up. Noticing the buildings on the other side of the river, Lucy realized that she had gone about a mile too far from the designated meeting place, but at least she was on the correct side of the river. She turned and trudged.**

 **After being kidnapped, tortured, and jumping headlong into the river, Lucy did not think there was much else in the world that could be worse than what she had already had to endure. But seeing her clothes on a dead body, whose hair had been cut and dyed by Flo to resemble hers, and having to smash the face in on a rock so it would be unrecognizable, was...surreal. Disconcerting. Nauseating. Lucy slammed her boot onto the body, trying not to look at the face, as Flo commented on how lucky it was to have found one her size, as if finding a body double was like finding a dress in the thrift store.**

 **Her stomach turned at the thought, shivering in the thrift store clothes Flo had also provided for the occasion. Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, Lucy remembered something Winkman had said, one of the first times he'd come to kick her and take a picture:**

" **Make sure he can see that necklace, or he'll think it's fake."**

 **With tears in her eyes, and a tremor in her hands, she undid the latch of the silver necklace and transferred it to the dead person. The body complete, the girls shoved it back into the Thames, where Flo had originally uncovered it.**


	3. Chapter 3: The explanation

**Chapter 3: the explanation**

Danny made Flo breakfast the next morning, which means he boiled water for tea and set out the three choices in cereal (even though he knew the one she'd pick). Anxious to talk with her Grandpa George, they'd woken (he'd hardly slept), eaten (he'd barely nibbled), and left before his parents stirred. At least he wouldn't have to explain her presence last night.

Flo's family was incredibly close. Her four grandparents had all been friends and members of the same small agency during the height of the Problem. He wasn't entirely clear on the details, but something tragic occurred and the agency fell apart. Her parents implied that this event was connected to the lessening of the Problem, but that wasn't what his teachers in primary told him. Nevertheless, a few years after the agency's demise her Grandpa Quill and Grandma Holly got married and had a daughter named Lucy, Flo's mother. Thinking about it, the ghost's name had to be a coincidence – her mother is alive and well, and her maiden name was Kipps, not Carlyle. Similarly, her Grandpa George and Grandma Flo had a son, Flo's father. He couldn't quite remember her dad's name – something like A.J. or J.D., but Flo was named after her grandmother, who'd passed away just before she was born. Grandpa Quill passed away five years ago. Danny had gone to the funeral to support Flo – she'd sobbed into his shoulder for only a few moments, but by the time she wiped the tears off her face and plastered a shaky, supportive smile back on, he realized he'd do anything to keep her from feeling so grieved again. Since then, her surviving grandparents have moved into her house, and he'd come to the realization that he's completely smitten with her.

They didn't want to risk going through the front in case her parents were still asleep - their room was just above the entrance. Instead, they walked around to the back of the house where the door to the basement was located. Another advantage: it was usually unlocked.

"Florence?" A wavering, cheerful voice called out. "Florence, is that you? What are you doing out so early?"

After the initial shock, Danny relaxed. It was her Grandma Holly. She was a frail and kindly old woman, her black skin speckled with age but the lines on her face were more the result of countless smiles than countless years. Her steel gray hair was short, curled outward at the chin, and sensibly yet stylishly pinned back away from her face.

"Hi, Granny. Just out to get Danny. Where's Gramps?"

"In the kitchen, eating donuts and drawing on that silly table cloth. It's been almost 70 years and he _still_ won't use proper paper…" a rare look of exasperation crossed her face. "Danny!" she cried, a sweet smile forming "you're becoming such a handsome young man. Tell me, how are your parents?"

"They're fine, Ms. Hol -"

"Granny, we need to talk to Gramps. We'll come and say Hi in a few minutes." Flo interrupted, tugging on his arm to lead him up the stairs and into the kitchen.

His apprehension mounted as they awkwardly moved up the stairwell – Flo was still grasping his elbow. Aside from her hand on his skin, he was also concerned about facing the grumpy old man. Danny had never had a pleasant encounter with him. Where Holly was sweet and bright, he was dry and sarcastic. His great girth seemed permanently piled on the chair at the kitchen table. From the pictures around the house Danny gathered that he'd always been rotund, but age made him grotesquely so. He was like a heavy marshmallow man, the way he slumped in his seat over the table, sketching on the "thinking cloth," as he called it. The only time Danny had seen him anywhere else was Grandpa Quill's funeral.

"Hi Gramps!" Flo said brightly. "You remember Daniel, don't you?"

Old George gruffly mumbled in reply, not looking up from his work.

"Great. Well, he says he heard a ghost talking to him last night. Go on, tell him Dan."

"Er…well…you see.."

"Lots of people Hear the dead talking, boy. Nothing to wet your pants over." His voice came out like gravel.

"Well, yes, I know. I've heard them talk before." He said dumbly, not sure how to go on. "The thing is…the thing is, this one called me by name."

Danny couldn't tell, but he was pretty sure that got his attention. At any rate, the old man paused. Still, it could have been a fart – the guy was pretty old after all. And smelly.

Danny chose to be optimistic. Taking it as a sign he was listening, Danny pushed on. "It was a woman. She called my name and said she needed me to find her Source. She gave me an address."

The old man shifted. "Only a Type Three would be that lucid…" He mumbled to himself. Then asked, "What was the address?"

"Er…35, Portland Row. I think it's pretty close-"

Grandpa George had dropped his pen and paled.

"Have you studied that address before, sir?" Danny asked politely, unsure of what to do.

"Flo!" He suddenly snapped. "Go get Holly. Now." Flow scampered downstairs. "You," he said, turning his bald head to me, "tell me exactly what she said. Word for word."

"Er…I don't remember exactly, but it was something like 'Daniel, my name is Lucy Carlyle. I won't hurt you. Please find my Source. It's at 35, Portland Row'" He rattled off, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. "I told her this was impossible, that ghosts don't talk like this, and she said 'trust me, I know how weird this is.' But I was pretty freaked out, so I took off running after that. She…she seemed pretty desperate. She…Well, she also said that I'm the only one who could hear her, but – but that's impossible, right? Like you said, lots of people Hear ghosts."

Old George just sat there. The expression on his face hadn't changed. In fact, his only movement was to finish wiping his glasses on his shirt and gravely place them back on the bridge of his nose.

"Erm…Mister Cubbins? Sir? I can't be the only one, right? The ghost is lying?" Danny shifted uncomfortably under the eagle-eyed stare.

"Wrong. Lots of meagerly Talented agents can _Hear_ ghosts. But very, very rarely someone comes along who can actually _Listen_ to them. By the sound of it, you're one of those."

"But, sir … how could this one speak so clearly? How could she know my name?"

"Because, Daniel, Lucy is a Type Three."

"But –"

Flo pushed open the door to the basement, her grandmother gripping her elbow for support. Instead of finishing his question, he went to help her. Partly because Ms Holly was one of his favorite people in the world, but mostly he wasn't sure which question to ask. He also wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Once she was settled, Ms. Holly asked, "George, what is going on? Why the rush? Flo seemed so …"

"Old Luce has gotten in touch with Danny here" He interjected.

"Lucy? I thought she was at the supermarket –"

"Not _your_ Lucy. _Our_ Lucy. The one that died, oh, 60 years ago."

Grandma Holly was silent, dumbstruck.

"Gran…" Flo asked hesitantly, "did you guys know this ghost? From the agency, I mean?"

"Oh yes, we knew her." George answered, "She was one of our very best friends."

"I thought…" Holly seemed about to cry. "I thought we laid them to rest. We saw their ghosts fade, didn't we? We did everything right for them, didn't we? George?"

"Of course we did, Holly. We don't know why she's back. Maybe she has a warning for us, maybe … well, we never did go back there after dark, did we? The point is, she's back, and she's asked Daniel to find her Source at 35 Portland Row."

Daniel and Flo waited in silence. Tears were slowly beginning to form at the old woman's eyes.

"I …" Holly whispered, barely audible, "I don't think I can face them."

"Hol, it wasn't your fault. I've been saying it for 60 years, and I'm sure Lucy would tell you the same –"

"I know what you've been saying, but that doesn't mean I believe it! Who knows what would have happened if I…If I hadn't…"

"If you hadn't what, Holly?! Those two were moping about the house after each other for months. Frankly, I'm amazed a poltergeist didn't form amidst all that tension between them. We _all_ might have died that night if you hadn't spoken up. At least they got a few days together."

"I never should have interfered in their business, George. We'd lived through countless cases – I should have trusted them." Holly normally had perfect posture, despite having shrunk with age. Now, she looked defeated, deflated, and desolate. Danny's heart broke seeing her like this. He couldn't help but feel as though he'd caused it somehow, just by bringing up that ghost's name. "I was just so, so happy to find out that Lucy was alive that first time, and Lockwood's reaction was just so ridiculous…"

Danny stole an inquisitive glance at Flo – it looked like the two geriatrics were about to have at it. She flicked her head to the basement door, suggesting that they sneak out and leave them to it.

"Holly…" George said in a surprisingly gentle voice as Danny made to join Flo. "Where are you going? Sit down." Danny and Flo sat, nervous about the sudden change in tone. "Listen, Holly, we'll talk about our involvement later. The point is, these two will need to dig up Lucy's source. They should probably do that during the daylight. I'm not surprised Lucy is a Type Three, but Lockwood is a different matter. Best to play it safe."

"Lockwoood?" Flo asked, "wasn't that the name of the agency you worked for? Lockwood something?"

"Lockwood and Co., yes. 35 Portland Row was the agency's headquarters. It belonged to the Lockwood family, so that was where the three of us lived, that is, Lucy, Lockwood and I. Holly and Kipps had their own places. It was also where we buried their Sources. I inherited the property after Lockwood died. Still own it, in fact. I send my son A.J. to check on it every few months or so." George went on, the gravel in his voice smoothing out to a dull rumble. "We named our children after them – A.J. is short for Anthony James, Lockwood's first name, though James was a name from my wife's side."

"I thought the name Lucy was just a coincidence. I guess I was wrong" Danny said.

"We were thrilled when my little Lucy fell in love with A.J. Cubbins," Holly smiled weakly. "It was almost as if our two friends could live again through them, even though they're nothing like their namesakes."

Danny steeled himself, and asked, "so what happened to them?"

"That's a very long, and rather painful, story Mr. Daniel Mandrake. I'd rather not tell it just yet. You and Flo get yourselves to Portland Row. Look for the lavender bushes on the side of the yard, they're buried beneath the middle one. Lucy's Source is a silverglass box full of her journals. The box of bone fragments are Lockwood. They're surrounded by two iron rapiers and a silver necklace. As long as those boundaries aren't disturbed, you should have no trouble retrieving them in the daylight. I wouldn't rebury Lockwood just yet, in case Lucy says she needs them."

 **Their plan worked beautifully, almost miraculously. The body had been drawn out of the Thames the next day. Lucy read in the papers how Lockwood had been called in to identify the body. The journalists reported his inability to comment on the situation, especially since he had been so vocal about her disappearance. Lockwood, as well as Holly, George, and Kipps, believed her to be dead. Yesterday, an obituary written by Holly explained how the four of them would be escorting the body in person back to her hometown this afternoon, where her funeral would take place. A flattering description of Lucy's life was followed by a request that donations to cover the cost of the funeral be sent to the family in place of flowers.**

 **Flo reported how Winkman, upon hearing that her body was found in the river, stormed into the mortuary and demanded to see the body. It took several threats before they let him, but one glance at her neckline confirmed, in his mind at least, that the body was genuine.**

 **That Winkman had fallen for their plot was the good news, but the bad news was that someone had hired him to torch the house while they were away for Lucy's funeral. Flo was confident in her source for this tidbit of information, although she had no idea who would be so cruel as to hire Winkman for a job like that after Lucy's alleged death. Lucy, however, had a sneaking suspicion of who that might be.**

 **Which was why she now found herself outside of 35 Portland Row, hiding in one of the apple trees, waiting for her best friends to leave so she could sneak in. If Winkman had even the slightest suspicion that Lockwood and the rest weren't consumed with misery over her death, he may find other ways to satisfy his revenge. In addition to torching the house, that is. For now, according to Flow, Winkman was delighted to watch them suffer by her loss. Thus, even though it tore through her heart to keep this information from them, she stayed hidden.**

 **Finally, a cab parked in front of the house and she watch as they clambered into it with a modest amount of luggage.**

 **She waited for a full thirty seconds after it was no longer in view before clambering down and heading for a broken window. Cursing as it slammed down on the small of her back, she tumbled headlong into the house.**

 **The first thing she did was empty the duffle bags of salt, iron, and lavender. Unlike the magnesium flares, these would not explode in the event of fire. Then she started in the kitchen, packing up anything that might be important. She had been missing for about two weeks, long enough for George's map and the thinking cloth to have received new and (hopefully) important developments. She folded them up and stuffed them into a bag. Next, she went to find the rapiers, the Skull, and the Spirit Cape. They were easy enough to find and stash. The grotesque face on the Skull lifted her spirits a bit - she missed him in an odd way.**

 _ **Not dead yet, then?**_

" **No."**

 _ **Don't you dare leave me alone with those people again, Lucy. You wouldn't believe the behavior I had to put up with.**_

" **I was tortured by Winkman and had to jump into the Thames to fake my death. Cry me a river."**

 _ **I don't cry. I'm dead. How insensitive.**_

" **Shut up and keep a lookout."**

 _ **Is that all I am to you? A convenient lookout? I thought we were friends! I'm becoming quite helpful in other ways, or have you already forgotten how if it weren't for me, you and the peacock would still be stuck on the Other Side?**_

 **Lucy wasn't paying attention any more. She let him rant, enjoying the company within her mind once again. It had gotten too silent over the past few weeks.**

 **She had just gone upstairs to grab what few sentimental items she knew of from the boys rooms when she heard the front door open. Of course the Skull didn't warn her - that would spoil the fun. Dropping the pile onto Lockwood's bed, she grabbed a spare rapier next to his door - she suspected he'd kept it there since the invasion of Annie Ward.**

 **Slowly, she crept down the steps, silently panicking at each creak of the old wood.**

 **And then Holly Munro was there at the bottom, rapier in hand and a fierce look on her face. Lucy froze. So did Holly.**

" **What…?"**

" **Holly, I really don't have time to explain -"**

" **Lucy, I'm so sorry! I should have known you'd haunt this house...I - I don't know what to do…"**

" **Holly, I'm not haunting the house."**

 **But Holly was not listening. Lucy had never seen her so shaken. She was talking to herself, and Lucy thought she heard Holly say something about trapping her in Jessica's room.**

" **Holly - HOLLY! Look at me. I can understand you. I am talking to you in complete sentences. It is still daylight. I am not a ghost. The body was a fake."**

" **A...A fake?"**

" **Yes. Now, Fittes has hired Winkman to torch the house, but if they think I'm still alive they'll go after the rest of you. I need you to get downstairs to the office and grab anything that's essential. But ONLY the essentials. Do you understand?" Lucy hoped giving Holly something practical to focus on would kill two birds with one stone: she had no idea what was necessary to run the business, nor was she adept at dealing with others' emotions.**

 **Holly, having processed that Lucy was indeed alive, was able to pull herself back together.**

" **Ye-Yes. I know exactly what we'll need." Lucy expected her to turn round and head for the office, and was startled when Holly flew up the remaining steps to throw her arms around her.**

" **Holly…." Lucy gasped, "I can't breathe!"**

" **Oh! So sorry. I'm just so glad…"**

" **I know. It's good to see you, too." Lucy smiled, and with that, Holly headed for the office.**

 **They met in the hall several minutes later. Holly explained, briefly, that she'd been so lost in thought she'd forgotten Lucy's last paycheck. They were going to give it to Lucy's family. Lockwood refused to allow her to go alone, so Kipps is waiting in the cab outside.**

" **You'd better get going then, he's bound to come check on you any minute" Lucy said. "But, Holly, you have to understand that we're all in so much danger right now. The boys especially. I know this is going to be so hard for you, now that you know the truth, but they** _ **must**_ **believe that I'm dead. There's no way around it. We can't give Winkman even the slightest suspicion that something else is going on, do you understand?"**

" **Yes, of course I understand. I just...I don't know how I'll be able to even look them in the eye this week."**

" **I know you can do it."**

 **Holly sighed. "I'll try…. Er, Lucy?"**

" **Yes?"**

" **What are you going to do about Jessica's room?"**

" **Honestly, Hol, I have no idea. I don't know if Lockwood will be able to forgive me for tricking him like this, let alone if I go into that room without his permission again. He's even said as much when I fessed up to snooping the first time. But I can't shake the feeling that the items in there are more important to him than he lets on, even if he can't bring himself to go through them. Not to mention the fact that there may be some really useful artifacts in there..."**

" **Don't worry about that - we were so desperate to find you, we searched that room top and bottom for anything that might help. I already put the items of interest in the bags. But you're right about Lockwood's attachment to it. The reason I asked is because, after seeing his reaction to these past few weeks, setting fire to that room might be the best way for him to move on."**

 **Before Lucy could ask her to elaborate, there was a knock on the door. Lucy ducked out of sight as Holly gathered her things and stepped out onto the porch.**

" **Holly, are...are you all right?"**

" **I'm, well, no. Sorry. I got so distracted as soon as I walked in...I keep thinking I'll turn the corner and see her ghost."**

" **Do you want me to get the paycheck for you?"**

" **What? No! I'll get it. I left it on the kitchen table. It'll only take a few seconds, just wait here...I'll be right back…" Lucy heard her come back in, leaving the door ajar. Holly grabbed the envelope sitting on the kitchen counter and swooped in for one final, wordless, rib crushing hug before returning to Kip** **p** **s and closing the door all of the way. Lucy was proud of her acting.**

 **With that, she ran upstairs to snag a few photos (and the animal mobile). She ignored the feeling of guilt for entering the room once again, there was no time to waste by studying the changes to it from their search. She'd been here long enough**

 **She gathered up the bags, threw them out the window, and schlepped them to the car on the other side of the block where Flo waited.**


	4. Chapter 4: The Journals

**Chapter 4: the journals**

It took all day to find the remains. They'd spent hours scraping away at the dirt next to the middle lavender bush when Flo realized the bush at the end of the row had been removed, and the largest bush was actually two. They'd been looking under the wrong bush.

The unearthed rapiers were completely rusted after decades in the damp ground. The necklace retained some of its beauty - if you could look past the dirt caked on it. Another hour past, during which they carefully dug around a large silverglass box. It was deeply immersed in the muck. Danny could only hope it was the correct one – he shivered to think of carrying around the smaller box of actual human remains.

Danny checked to make sure the rapiers and necklace were back in place. He could tell these items had been important to the deceased – it looked as though someone intentionally curved the necklace so that, strung between the crossed rapiers, it made the shape of a heart. A chill went down his spine as he heaved the box onto his shoulder, and he and Flo walked back in silence.

* * *

 **Lucy glanced nervously back at the skull. She didn't trust him. Of course she didn't trust him. But he had a point.**

 **It had been a few weeks since her "funeral." In that time, so much had happened. Most of which was good: Lucy revealed herself to Inspector Barns, who in turn was able to convict the Winkman's of her kidnapping. The person sent by Winkman and Fittes was not a capable arsonist, and had only managed to damage the attic before the Firemen arrived. This meant that Lucy's room was trashed, but at least she was able to return to her family at 35 Portland row.**

 **Now was not the time to think about what it was saying. Now was the time to act. Marissa Fittes had planted a Source on the Other Side that kept her alive and well in the living world. Lucy did not want to share George's suspicions that she had done so at the expense of her grandaughter's - the real Penelope Fittes - life. In order to end her apparent immortality, however, they first had to find the Source on the Other Side. Then the could exhume whatever was in Marissa's grave.**

" **Lockwood…" she said, "Please, just trust me. We've been over this. I'm the only one that will be able to hear the skull. And when I'm on the other side, he won't be able to show me where the door is this time because he** _ **is**_ **the door. So, in order for me to get back safely, I need you to stay here and be, well, an anchor of sorts. 35 Portland Row is only the place, I need you to find the correct time. You know how disorienting time is over there."**

" **I don't like you going in there alone, Luce. Especially not after… you know. I don't trust that old skull. And I know you've said it dozens of times, but I still don't understand why George or Holly can't be an anchor for the both of us."**

" **The skull is only one Source, Lockwood! We wouldn't fit! We barely fit within the cloak anyway."**

" **We made it work last time, didn't we? Are you sure there isn't another reason you don't want me going along with you?"**

" **You know perfectly well why I don't want you in danger, Lockwood." She said quietly, not looking at him.**

 **His mood shifted, stilled. He responded with a similarly quiet,** " **Ah, yes. That. My _imminent demise_." **

" **Yes."**

" **You'd better get going then."**

" **Yes."**

" **I'll just wait here for you."**

" **Yes."**

" **Be safe."**

" **I will."**

 **Lucy turned around and loosened the cap of the Skull's jar as far as it would go. George discovered that gold seems to strengthen the power of a Source (which explained how Annie Ward's ghost had been so intense). She set the gold plate under the jar and the usual yellow-green hue of the Skull's plasm flared. It reached a good six inches around the jar, but it was still only enough for her to step in one foot at a time.**

 _ **Still haven't told him, have you?**_ **It sneered.** _ **The reason he's your anchor? Three simple words and you still can't say them.**_ **I** _ **certainly won't be surprised if he decides not to stick around**_ **.**

" **Shut it, you." Lucy mumbled.**

 **She faced Lockwood once again, gave a small wave as George carried a tea try into the room, and pulled the hood of the feathered cloak over her head. Lockwood gave her the full gigawatt smile, but the light didn't reach his eyes. She then turned back to step into the Skull's light, a portal to the Other Side.**

 **She didn't come back for three days.**

 **Lucy fell out of the Skull's glow, shaking with exhaustion, hunger, and chill. She vaguely remembered seeing Lockwood toss away the magazine he was reading to rush to her side, but she fainted without registering his cries to George and Holly.**

 **She woke in her new room on the ground floor some time later, to the sound of Holly bringing up a kettle and some cakes.**

" **I'm just so glad you're okay." Holly finished. Lucy could believe sleeping for a full 16 hours, but she could not believe that she was on the Other Side for three whole days.**

" **Holly, I swear, I thought I was gone for only a few minutes. It was almost too easy. I didn't mean to worry you all."**

 **Holly giggled, "you should have seen Lockwood – he couldn't keep himself still, but he refused to even leave the room until you came back. We had our meals down there, and I could hear him thumping around and taking his frustration out on Joe and Esmeralda during the rest of the day. He was** _ **particularly**_ **worried about you." Lucy didn't bother trying to decode the smile on her face. Or the sing-song tone of her voice. She was too tired. Holly had been dropping hints like this since she'd come back from pretend death. Between her and the Skull, it was lucky she didn't go mad.**

" **Well" Lucy said weakly, "I'm awake now. And I've got news about Marissa. Where is everyone?"**

" **George is researching Marissa's gravesite. He thinks there might be a poltergeist lurking in there as a defense. Lockwood went out – he didn't say where he was going, but I think he just needs some air. Quill is downstairs." Lucy noticed a slight change in her voice when she said Quill's name. Another foreign behavior she was in no mood to interpret.**

" **All right then. Holly, I need to talk to you about something, but you have to promise not to say anything to the others."**

" **Of course, Lucy. I would never betray your confidence."**

" **The thing is…Well, this job is dangerous. There is a very good chance any one of us would die on a case. Or otherwise, given our track record. Honestly, I wouldn't put it past Marissa to just torch this whole house with all of us in it, she's that nasty. The point is," Lucy paused at the discomfort on Holly's face. "Oh, don't look so surprised. We both know what it's like to lose our entire team to disaster. But, Holly, if I should die, I want someone to know that I've kept a record of my communications with ghosts. They're in my room here somewhere. Trouble is, they're also my private journals, so I don't want just anyone reading them, especially while I'm still alive. Would you keep them safe for me? All but the most recent one, that is."**

" **Lucy, I would be honored."**

" **There's one more thing. Marissa may have found a way to keep herself alive. But if I die, Holly…please don't let the boys go around hiding Sources to bring me back. Just let me rest in peace, okay?"**

" **Of course, Lucy. Rotwell… er, well, most agencies really, have a form for their employees to fill out. It's rather morbid, but involves the person's wishes should they die on the job. I never thought to bring it up to Lockwood, but after the four of us trying to deal with your death... I really should find them."**

 **Lucy should have know that Lockwood's praise would be too much to hope for, especially given the way he acted before she left. No sooner had she explained what she did while on the Other Side, and what they would have to do when they went to Marissa's grave, than he began to shout. He was furious she'd been gone for so long. Worried sick about her in there alone. Her actions remained to be explained, and her reasons were equally suspicious. He thought he could trust her, and she'd let him down somehow.**

 **This was so completely, utterly, and ridiculously unfair. She shouted back. They probably could have gone on for hours, but Holly stepped in between them, sending Lucy and George upstairs for tea.**

 **She sat at the table, drawing scenes from the Other Side on the Thinking Cloth. George placed a mug at her side and sat down.**

" **Lucy."**

" **George."**

" **You and Lockwood are getting out of hand. I've spoken with Holly, and neither of us is comfortable going into Marissa's grave to face a poltergeist with the two of you so on edge. It's time to tell him. Past time, really."**

" **Tell Lockwood what?"**

" **You know perfectly well, what. I don't need an explanation for his role in your journey. Ghosts are incredibly affected by emotions. Of course he'd be your _anchor,_ as you call it. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. If you had been gone for another hour, I would have told him myself."**

" **George…"**

" **Don't George me. I would tell you he feels the same way, but I know you won't believe it coming from me."**

" **Lucy" Holly said, choosing that moment to enter the kitchen. Where was she one minute ago, before George started spouting nonsense? "Lockwood has something he needs to tell you."**

 **Lucy picked up her mug of tea and took the one George offered to give to Lockwood. Her heart pounded in her chest. For some reason, going down those stairs was more frightening then stepping into the Skull to the Other Side. More frightening than jumping into the river, even. Was he going to keep blaming her? Would he still want to be around her, knowing how she felt about him? Would he even give her the chance to say it?**

 **She took a deep breath and descended the stairs to the practice room.**

 **Lockwood was sitting there, staring at the floor. She sat across from him and passed him the mug of tea.**

" **Hi Luce."**

" **Hi."**

" **Thanks for the tea." He smiled. She blushed. His demeanor had changed drastically since she'd left, but that was pretty typical for him.**

" **I was going to wait until I lost my Talents," He continued, "but Holly has convinced me I've got it backwards. I was hoping to keep you safe, you see. But by staying silent I'm actually putting you in danger." He paused, took a breath. Lucy sat silently, waiting. "The truth is, over the past few months, I've … I've begun to fancy you."**

" **Lockwood…"**

" **I'm almost done, and then you can make fun of me all you like. I'm reckless – I know it, you know it, the whole country probably knows it as far as I can tell. Part of that is because with my family gone, all I have left is this agency. If risking my life means I can advance its reputation, then dying is not so bad a result. But after you quit I realized I would rather die than watch another friend go. And then you were kidnapped, and then you faked your death… Look, I'm not looking forward to losing my Talents Luce, even with those goggles in mind. I'm not sure what will happen to the agency when I'm gone – it's not like I would ever become a supervisor. Now, I know you're going to make fun of me for this" he flashed a nervous smile her way. "But I've been thinking about a life with you, when we're useless old grownups, and I'm not so sure I want to go down swinging anymore."**

" **Lockwood…"**

" **It's silly, I know."**

" **No, it's not that." Suddenly, the words came fumbling out of her. It was just as rushed and awkward her confession in the Rotwell Institute. "I've felt the same way, probably since you hired me, I just couldn't admit it. George had me figured out from the start though. He also figured that was why I needed you to stay put while I went to the Other Side. I feel so strongly for you, it was so easy to find my way back just by thinking about you. That's the whole of it. I don't know if the fetch from Aikmere's was simply toying with me, at the very least it knew I hoped more than anything that you would come looking for me, but you were very much on my mind as I was wandering around down there and the thought of you dying for me was just too much. So I left, but you – you reckless idiot – I couldn't stay away."**

" **We're hopeless."**

" **Yeah" she laughed. "We are."**

" **So, dinner date tomorrow?"**

" **Sounds lovely."**

" **You're buying though. I pay you enough."**

" **What?! If anyone owes me free food it's you. Anyway, you haven't paid me since I came back from the dead."**

" **I so have! Just ask Holly." His lopsided grin melted her. "Besides, after all the trouble you've caused –"**

" **Trouble? What trouble? I've been MIA for days."**

" **Exactly. My reckless mental instability is a direct result of your absence."**

" **Toughen up. We've a poltergeist to deal with."**

" **Fine." Lockwood said as he stood, stretching his arms above his head as he made for the door. Lucy followed. "I'll pay this time. There's just one more thing."**

" **What?"**

 **He hooked his arm around her waist, looked her square in the face, and dove in for a kiss. It would have been quite suave, if his nose hadn't poked her in the eye. Which means he missed the intended target of her lips.**

"OW **!"**

" **Sorry! Sorry… lemme try that again."**


	5. Chapter 5: Lucy

**Chapter 5: How Lucy Died**

Danny and Flo finally stumbled into the house an hour before dusk. There was a strange pair of goggles on the kitchen table, as well as what looked to be another silverglass jar covered with a green and white dotted handkerchief. Grandpa George, it seemed, had sent someone all over the house to retrieve them – he recognized both items from opposite parts of the building. Flo went to make tea as he thumped the heavy box on the table. He noticed a new sketch on the Thinking Cloth that seemed to be Flo's family tree. It included all of her aunts, uncles, and siblings, but he absentmindedly traced only the lines that led to her.

George Cubbins - Florence Bonnard Quill Kips - Holly Munro

Anthony James Cubbins - Lucy Clare Kips

Florence Cubbins

He had always been amazed at the connection between the two sides of her family. His parents didn't seem to get along with their in-laws in the slightest. Holidays were a major source of tension. After growing up with Flo, in some ways, Ms. Holly was more of a grandmother to him than his own Grandma Kitty. He could not imagine that strong willed old woman moving in with them. Instead, he found himself hoping to join this family.

Shaking that thought from his mind, he realized that Grandpa George was no longer at the table. He heard the toilet down the hall give a reluctant flush, and the old man waddled back to the kitchen to fill the chair once again. Danny tried very hard not to wince as the old man's shirt got caught on the back of the seat, revealing … well, a different seat.

"So." George grumbled, "You found it. Took you long enough."

"One of the bushes was missing, sir. So we didn't realize we were digging in the wrong spot until about two hours ago."

"Likely story. I see the way you look at my granddaughter. But no matter. I should have done this before you left, just to make sure you heard what you say you heard." He lifted the handkerchief off of the jar. Danny had only seen its contents once, when he was eight and Flo challenged him to a bravery contest. The sight still made the hairs on his neck stand on end. But then George loosened the cap at the top and tapped on the side of the glass as if trying to wake the Ghost inside.

"Wake up, ya dumb old Skull," George snapped, his face squinting at the remains within. "I know you can hear me."

The yellow-green contents stirred and swirled. They hadn't done that last time. And then –

 _Oh, leave me alone you miserable old twit_.

It was all Danny could do not to fall out of his chair.

"You can speak too?" He cried.

The Skull swiveled slowly to face him, the plasm within collected to form a ghastly grin.

 _Ahh…another one. I should have known. Do me a favor, and tell George he's a nasty, pompous mound of lard that looks as though he was painfully produced by a whale._

"Absolutely not."

 _Prat. Wait a moment._ The grin changed. _I sense Lucy. Is that old bird nearby, too? I thought she'd died… Unless she fancied copying the great Marissa, that is…_

"I take it he's instructing you to insult me. Good, means he's up. No doubt been bored the past few decades. It also means you can, in fact, communicate with Type Threes."

Flo set the mugs and kettle on the table, covering up the family tree.

"Knew you'd have the answer, Gramps. So what was the treasure hunt for?"

The Ghost in the jar continued to hurl insults, but George tightened the cap once again as he replied, "Not sure. We'll have to have Danny boy chat with Lucy. I'm waiting for Holly to come back before we open the chest."

Danny could hear Holly's slippers shuffle down the hall upstairs. It seemed she was pacing.

"Is she okay, Gramps? She seemed so sad earlier…"

"She's unreasonably guilty. And worried. She doesn't think she can face old Luce here."

"Why not?"

Her grandfather was silent. "She blames herself for their deaths." He sighed and went on, "Lucy and Lockwood were mad for each other, but they kept it to themselves for the most part. When we discovered there'd be a poltergeist at our next site, Holly was convinced – as was I – that they needed to fess up and get their emotions out. All ghosts feed off of emotion, but they way those two were behaving toward each other was dangerous in an operative situation. Each was willing to die for the other, and it made them both reckless. Neither wanted to live without the other, but neither could admit to it. We convinced them bottling up that kind of emotion is always risky." He looked pointedly at Danny, then said "Things were never so carefree in that house than the days in between getting them to talk and going to Marissa's grave. But…the ghosts were out of control. And there was...an unexpected opponent. They died anyway," he finished tersely.

"I'm sorry for your loss, sir." Danny said after a moment. Even after all this time, the man's grief was obvious. He didn't know what else to say.

George merely nodded. "Frankly, I'm not surprised by the end result. Like I said, they were reckless. Reckless, and in love. Now…where's Holly?"

Danny heard her slippers coming slowly toward them. The first thing he noticed when she entered the kitchen was the blotchy red result of tears. Nevertheless, she'd valiantly tried for a brave smile. Flo helped her into her chair, and Danny offered a mug of tea. Once she was settled, George eagerly shoved the strange goggles on his face and opened the latch.

The silvery purple glow of Lucy Carlyle drifted out of the box. She seemed to be wearing leggings, a skirt, and a long jacket – completely out of style, but that was not what drew Danny's attention.

She had something long and sharp piercing through her right shoulder.

* * *

 **This was it. All the hours spent extracting questionably reliable information from the Skull led to this. George's research. Lockwood's mood swings. Her re-entry to the Other Side was for this. Holly's fretting. Kips' attitude. Not to mention the time she took preparing her journals incase this went wrong. Everything was on the line.**

 **But after all that build up, Marissa's tomb seemed innocuous.**

 **They broke into the above ground mausoleum shortly before dusk, where an almost comically unconcealed latch revealed the staircase to the coffin. It was almost too easy.**

 **An iron circle of heavy duty chains was constructed first. Then the candles were lit. And of course, tea was brewed. It was just like any other case. There was even a Source of sorts to be found. Granted, Lucy had found the one hidden on the Other Side by herself. It was risky, and terrifying, but she'd done it. Still, she was grateful to have the rest of the team by her side tonight. Once they'd gotten this item taken care of, Fittes would age and die like a normal human, and her grasp on immortality would end.**

 **The boys heaved the stone lid off of the coffin. Nothing happened.**

" **Empty, as we suspected."**

 _ **Captain George Obvious, with the assist**_ **, the Skull hissed.**

" **Skull, if you're not going to say anything helpful –" Lucy placed the jar on the floor and glared.**

 _ **Oh, keep your hair on. You're all probably going to die anyway**_ **.**

" **Still not helpful."**

 _ **What can I say? The poltergeist is here all right. The others, too. You can feel them for yourself. If you and those dolts were looking in the right place, they'd show up**_ **.**

" **And where, dear Skull, do you suggest we look?"**

 _ **Anywhere but the coffin**_ **.**

" **Captain Skull Obvious, with the assist."**

 **She ignored his muttered reply and looked up from the Skull, only to see that each person had had abandoned exploring the coffin and taken a section of the room to investigate instead.**

" **When this ghost shows up, make sure you notice what caused it. That'll be the only clue to the location of Marissa's Source." She said loud enough for everyone to hear. "And remember – it's following orders. It'll be more purposeful than we're used to."**

 **Just then, the room erupted.**

 **Statues, decorations, metal light posts and agency gear whirled about the room counter clockwise. The temperature plummeted, and ghost fog swept across the floor. The sudden violence made Lucy's head spin. Holly screamed as she was bombarded with paraphernalia, Kips rushed to her side. She didn't know where George was. Lucy heard Lockwood call her name and wave his arms, beckoning her to his corner.**

" **It was me!" He shouted. "The source is somewhere in this corner – I'd just moved the candelabra on this table to the side when everything went nuclear!" She could barely hear him over the din. "I'll cover you – it's got to be nearby!"**

 **Lucy frantically began searching for the object. She Touched everything she could think of, but there was no time to get a proper reading. The table had no secret compartments. The wall had no loose stones. Knocking on them would be useless. She even checked the wrought iron candelabra before the vengeful spirit wrenched it from her fingers. Nothing.**

 **She faced the room. Lockwood's back was to her, fending off the inanimate objects hurtling towards her. And then she saw something that made her blood run cold.**

 **An iron bar, wicked sharp, was pointing straight towards them.**

 **Lockwood's attention was on the stone bust of some ancient notable directly in front of him.**

 **Without thinking, she threw herself against him. He smacked against the cobblestones, momentarily stunned. The iron ran her straight through, pinning her to the wall. Her toes barely reached the floor.**

 **Her breath rattled and slowed. The pain was so intense she could barely think. She noticed a faint glow forming around her.**

 **A death glow.**


	6. Chapter 6: Lockwood

**Chapter 6: the broken rule; the other death**

Her shoulders slouched forward, arms dangled from her side as if waiting for a puppet master to animate them. Lucy's face was curtained by her short hair, and her head was bent so that her chin nearly touched her chest, but Danny could hear her whisper.

 _Don't say anything yet. I've only got one chance to get this right. Ready? Okay, tell him I said "George"_

"She…uh…she said your name. That is, George. She said George."

 _Tell him I sound angry_.

"She seems pretty angry." He had no idea what this woman was doing. She didn't sound angry at all. In fact, she seemed excited. But since she could kill him with a touch, he decided it was safest to follow her instructions. He also noticed – too late, perhaps – that no one had thought to encompass the artifacts in iron. The ghost had free reign.

"What? Why?" The old man grumbled, incredulous.

"She says, 'Did you not think…'" He paused after each phrase to hear the next one, and dutifully repeated them:

 _After what you'd done_ …

 _that night…_

 _that I would not…_

 _do everything in my power…_

 _to avenge us._

George became more nervous with each thing Danny said. The apparition had not changed.

"Lucy, please…" His uncertainty unnerved Danny, and he could see the discomfort on Flo and Holly's faces as well. "We did everything we could!"

"But you…" Danny repeated. There was something strange creeping into the woman's voice, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It was like she was holding back some kind of emotion.

 _You took it ..._

 _you violated…_

 _the most sacred rule…_

 _the one thing…_

 _that could never be forgiven…_

 _I saw you, George…_

 _I know…_

"Marissa's Source?" George glanced around nervously under the goggles. His hand flew to his side as if hoping to find something there to defend himself. An agent's habit. "We were all looking for it! We knew finding it would unleash the poltergeist! I just happened to be the unlucky one to stumble upon it!" He wheezed as he rushed to explain himself. "I didn't abandon you, Lucy. I fell into the secret chamber! I destroyed it! But I…I was too late. I'm so, so sorry Lucy…Lucy…please understand…" Tears formed in his eyes.

There was a small salt shaker on the kitchen table. Flo slowly reached for it, trying not to startle the ghost.

"George" Danny didn't understand what was going on, but his heart sank as the old man's head bowed. He had the look of a criminal who knew the judgment of execution was coming.

 _You took…_

 _two…_

"Too long, I know! I've spent 60 years wishing I'd only moved faster…"

 _biscuits_.

The building tension popped. Holly burst into tears. The apparition was shaking. George looked enraged. Only Flo seemed to share his confusion.

 _Sorry, I couldn't help it_. Lucy's ghost threw her head back, glee splattered all over her face.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it, she said."

"LUCY IF YOU WEREN'T ALREADY DEAD I WOULD KILL YOU" George roared from his chair.

"Oh, Lucy…I've missed you _so_ much" Holly whispered. "It's been far too long since anyone's gotten the better of old George."

"Gran, what on earth was that all about?" Flo asked, astounded.

"The biscuit rule. It's been 60 years and I'm still haunted by the biscuit rule." George grumbled.

 _As I recall, he was the one who cared most about it – he insisted I learn the biscuit rule before Lockwood even told me I was hired_. This made Danny laugh, despite his confusion. It was odd, hearing a joke from beyond the grave. He could see why Lucy might've tricked them – it was her way of saying 'I still love you, so stop feeling guilty.'

"I gotta say, Luce, it's supremely disconcerting to see you with that pole sticking out your chest."

 _Can't be worse than seeing your fat, wrinkly cheeks, but you don't hear anyone else complaining about it. And I'm not talking about the cheeks on his face_.

"Uh…I…don't really want to repeat that, Ms. Lucy."

"Trust me, kid. If she's not making fun of my weight, appearance, or age she wouldn't know what to do with herself. She's that daft."

 _Oi!_

"Now, George, don't you think that's a bit much?" Holly reprimanded.

"Nonsense, Holly. Do you want a turn with the goggles?"

"Oh, well… no. No offense, Lucy, but I'd rather remember you as the lovely girl you were. Without…without the… you know."

 _As gracious as ever. Please tell her I say 'thank you, no offense taken_.'

"So, Lucy, what's this all about then?" George asked.

 _It's Lockwood_.

* * *

 **Lockwood barely had time to register what was going on. Lucy was dead. George had found the Source and destroyed it, which calmed the poltergeist and most of the other spirit. Lucy was pinned to the wall, dead. Sir Rupert was coming down the stairs, rapier in hand. Lucy had pushed him out of the way of that iron spike, and now...she was dead. There was no hope of it being a fake. She was dead.**

 **The remaining spirits, momentarily tamed by the destruction of Marissa's source, began to stir. Lockwood reacted to Rupert's attack. He knew that if he didn't focus, none of them would make it out alive.**

" **You have disturbed my mistress' grave, Mr. Lockwood." Rupert sounded pleasant, relaxed.**

" **I'm assuming there is an alarm system? Or were you following us?"**

" **The latter."**

 **Lockwood could barely think straight. Rupert was advancing, pushing him towards a lingering specter. He would not win this with swordplay, that much was abundantly clear. There was no question in Lockwood's mind about Rupert's intentions: he was fighting to kill.**

 **Lockwood dived, aiming for the man's feet. It was so underhanded, Rupert would never have thought to prepare for such a move. He tripped over the teenager's body, right into the ghost.**

 **Rupert's body was plunged into an icy, dreadful chill. He could feel his heart slow as his body temperature lowered. He was dying, but he had one last underhanded move himself.**

 **Lockwood stood, and turned to face the man. He didn't see the gun until it was too late.**


	7. Chapter 7: The Final Request

**Chapter 7: the final request**

Danny picked up the pattern of Listening and repeating once again.

 _It's Lockwood._

 _He's waking up in this world._

 _He died not knowing_

 _What happened to his company._

 _It was his main goal in life,_

 _To see it become a top agency._

 _I was hoping Danny here_

 _Could tell me what had become of it_.

George looked grim. "Well, Lucy…after you two passed, it was all we could do not to fall apart. It was Kips actually who held us together. I mean, we'd all lost fellow agents before but Lockwood and Co was our family. I inherited the property, of course. Still check on it every once in awhile. But between mourning, inquiries from DEPRAC… it didn't last. I couldn't bring myself to hire anyone else on, so Holly and I finished off the cases, stopped taking new ones, and moved out. We didn't know what Lockwood would have wanted, and our Talents dwindled about a year later. Kips said grief is often related to that. I hired myself out as a researcher for the various agencies too lazy to do their own work. Holly got a job at a primary school. We moved on."

 _Ah. I understand._

 _As for Lockwood's wishes,_

 _I can help with that._

 _He thought about it a lot_

 _And decided the best course_

 _Was to train new operatives_

 _To work together_

 _Until he was confident in their independence._

 _Then, those younger operatives_

 _would train the next generation._

 _And so on._

 _The Company would live on,_

 _As would its legacy_

 _And independence._

"Well, sounds like we have some work to do," George said. "We've got a few grandchildren with some Talent. Not to mention Danny boy, over here."

 _You're going to re-open the company?_

"Of course we are!" Holly cried, looking at Danny since she could not see Lucy. "We would do anything to help you two rest in peace."

 _Good timing then,_

 _Because there's one more thing._

 _Fittes and Rotwell are at it again -_

 _They're stirring up all sorts of spirits,_

 _not just Lockwood._

 _They're making a final attempt_

 _to come back from the grave._

 _Which means,_

 _The Problem is about to resurface_.

* * *

Author's note:

Thanks for taking the time to read this through =]

It's more of my attempt to come to terms with the fact that Stroud has killed off main characters before, and since he's laid the groundwork for it I'll be more surprised if Lockwood lives than if he dies. This is something like a happy ending, even if it does leave more than a few loose ends - but I suppose that's up to Danny and Flo.

Brace yourselves, kids. After all, "Life's in Death, and Death's in Life."


End file.
